Good Night
by St. Harridan
Summary: A good night sealed with a kiss.


Kenpachi burst out with a laugh for the umpteenth time as Yachiru, once again, flew onto Ikkaku's shoulders and sank her milk teeth into his bald head. Screams from the poor man drifted into the dark bedroom through the opened window, breaking an otherwise peaceful silence.

Jushiro leaned back against his lover's chest, tilting his head to the side to stare out the window, to see what was happening. Usually he wouldn't even bother, accustomed already to the child's odd tendencies and tricks, but this had been going on for quite some time now. And he had to admit that, with the constant wails from Yumichika, whines from Aramaki and shouts from Ikkaku, he was beginning to get a little irritated.

"Why does Yachiru like to do that to him?" he murmured absently even though he already knew the answer.

"I don't know." Kenpachi simply shrugged, a thin grey trail of smoke slipping from between his lips. "All in good fun, I'd say."

"Mm-hm." Jushiro cracked an eye open to stare at him, raising an eyebrow to tease. "You need to cut the poor man some slack. He's been nothing but Yachiru's punching bag this whole evening."

"Soon to be the whole night if he doesn't finish repairin' that scooter in time." Kenpachi grinned at the disapproving glare he received and wrapped his arms around Jushiro, leaning down to press his nose to the side of Jushiro's neck. "Whatever. Ain't my fault if he gets his ass handed to 'em. 'Chiru's one tough brat."

"Unsurprising considering the company she's grown up with." Jushiro tipped his head back, smiling up at Kenpachi. "You've raised her well, I have to say. Kids in the lower parts of the Rukon usually come across as suspicious and always assuming the worst, while those in the upper districts are plain spoilt brats. Yachiru's about the right mixture of both."

"She's a big pain in the ass, that's what she is." Kenpachi huffed, though Jushiro could see the fondness within his grey eyes as they gazed down at the training grounds where Yachiru was still not letting go off Ikkaku. For once, Kenpachi was left unguarded, his expressions easy to read, his infamous smirk slightly softer than usual. As if his personality in public, in the battlefield, was just a fleeting dream bathed in blood.

Jushiro reached back to brush the hair out of Kenpachi's eyes. He had long given up on advising Kenpachi to comb the messy dark strands, smooth them down so that they weren't sticking out at odd angles. It was just not in his nature to be neat. Jushiro should have known from the start that to expect such things from the Eleventh Division was to ask for too much. If anything, they messed things up, not tidy them.

Pushing those thoughts out of his mind and blocking out Ikkaku's protests, Jushiro curled up on his side and buried his face in Kenpachi's chest, an arm wrapped around his waist.

"Good night, Zaraki," he murmured, hot breath falling onto Kenpachi's collarbone as he kissed his tanned skin. Kenpachi ran his fingers absently through Jushiro's hair, regarding him with a fondness almost akin to the one he reserved for Yachiru.

"Ye sure ye can sleep with all the riot?"

"No, I don't think so." Jushiro knew that he was being a pain, but then it was rather entertaining to see Kenpachi go the extra lengths just to make sure he was comfortable. It made him feel like the only person in the world, and he shamelessly welcomed such ego-boosters.

"Oi, asswipes," Kenpachi called out to his underlings. Everything seemed to have frozen in time, any and all actions completely ceasing to make room for what the almighty captain had to say. "Yachiru, it's way past yer bedtime. Get up here, brush yer teeth and get some sleep. Don't make me go all the way down there to pick yer ass up." He waved away her protest and slid the window back, but Jushiro's hand on his stopped him.

"Leave it open. It's a cool night outside, don't want to waste it now, do we?"

"Fussy old prick." But Kenpachi left it open nonetheless and leaned back against the cushions that were propped up against the wall. He reached for the _sake _cup and took a sip, sighing as the alcohol coursed through him, warmed him from the inside out.

Jushiro tipped his head up and gave Kenpachi a wide, almost hopeful smile.

"Don't I get a good night?"

"The hell's up with ye tonight?" Kenpachi grunted, puffing on his pipe. "So many questions, jeez. Shouldn't ye be asleep by now?"

"Well, sorry." Jushiro shrugged, wrapping the thin quilt around himself to block out the cold, but then just as he was about to squeeze his eyes shut and tumble into the awaiting arms of slumber, Kenpachi took hold of his chin and lifted his face up. Jushiro's eyes automatically came to rest upon Kenpachi's lips, as dry and chapped as they were, that stretched slowly into a sly smirk.

"Here's yer good night, damn prick." And Kenpachi sealed the night with a kiss that left Jushiro breathless and begging for more.


End file.
